


For Without Pain, There Can Be No Pleasure

by daggerpen



Series: Honeyverse [3]
Category: Batman (Comics), DCU, DCU - Comicverse, Green Arrow
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-14
Updated: 2013-02-14
Packaged: 2017-11-29 06:04:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 750
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/683692
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/daggerpen/pseuds/daggerpen
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"It ever bother you?"</p><p>"Not being able to feel pain? ... sometimes." </p><p>A short character vignette. Warnings for minor descriptions of the aftermath of a burn.</p>
            </blockquote>





	For Without Pain, There Can Be No Pleasure

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: For those of you who are unfamiliar with the canon- as alluded to elsewhere in this universe, during the early arcs of the Green Arrow/Black Canary comic, Connor was shot and put into a coma, then experimented on by Dr. Sivana. This experimentation left him with a healing factor, but largely amnesiac, and he is still recovering memories. It also, however, left him without the ability to feel pain.

*******

_~I know that pain is the most important thing in the universes. Greater than survival, greater than love, greater even than the beauty it brings about. For without pain, there can be no pleasure. Without sadness, there can be no happiness. Without misery there can be no beauty. And without these, life is endless, hopeless, doomed and damned.~_

― Harlan Ellison, _Paingod and Other Delusions_

*******

This place is too goddamn loud sometimes.

Jason rolls onto his back, staring blankly at the ceiling. He can hear Connor milling about behind the closed door, cooking something, from the sounds of the metal banging. He closes his eyes, rubbing his hands over his face and groaning.

He doesn’t begrudge Connor the disturbances, really. It’s not like Jason had even tried to go to bed last night, despite Connor’s repeated entreaties. Or like he’d really be able to fall asleep even if everything were completely quiet. He knows this particular flavor of insomnia far, far too well by now, and that the hour of comparative relaxation he’s gotten already is the best he’s going to get for a while. With a sigh, Jason pushes himself up, running a hand through his hair before he slides out of bed.

He can hear water running as he opens the door, and he glances over to the kitchenette. There’s a pot on the burner, still water sitting inside the metal container. Connor’s at the sink, hands under the faucet, and he glances back as Jason approaches.

“You’re up,” he says.

Jason ignores the words, glancing at Connor’s hands. The blonde is peeling off bits of skin, a layer of broken and bubbled skin over his palm. Burns? “... you put your hand on the stove, didn't you?” he asks.

Connor glances away. “Didn't even realize it until I looked down,” he says.

There’s a moment’s silence, Connor scrubbing at his skin while Jason watches, thinking. It’s funny how he’s even going to the trouble, since as far as Jason knows it should take care of itself as it heals.

“It ever bother you?” he asks as something between a theory and a realization strikes him.

“Not feeling pain?” He makes an aborted glance backwards. “... sometimes,” he says quietly. “Maybe it'd be different if I couldn't remember what it was like, but...” He takes a breath. “It makes things... less real, I guess. Makes me feel even less connected.”

"Guess I know that feeling," Jason says suddenly, not really meaning to.

Connor glances up from his task, fresh brown now visible under the angry discoloration of the burn. "Which one?"

He shrugs. "Not really feeling..." Feeling what? Present? Connected? _Alive_? Jason shakes his head, trailing off. "Forget it. You need a hand cleaning anything up?"

"It's fine. The stove's off," Connor replies. "I'll probably go back to cooking in a few minutes. I just didn't want anything _else_ to burn first."

"I can take care of it if you need."

"I thought we were trying not to burn anything?" Connor responds. It's one of the weaker banter attempts he's made, but Jason still snorts.

"I can cook, thanks. Better'n your rabbit food."

"When you don't forget about it."

"Says the guy who just cooked his hand," Jason retorts, and realizes his misstep immediately when Connor winces and glances away, his faint smile fading. Damn it. "... it really bothering you that much?" he asks.

"... what would you do, if you couldn't feel pain anymore?"

"See if I could get it applied about 7 years back," he says glibly, which earns another wince from his boyfriend. Fuck, why the hell did he say that? He should just keep his damn mouth shut for once. "Not sure I’d mind it much," he continues as though nothing had happened. "I'd make a bad joke about bedroom applications here, but the thing about pain is... most of the time, it's pretty fucking unpleasant. To say the least."

"It's a good thing, sometimes," Connor replies. "It warns you about things. Keeps you from hurting yourself."

"It can shut you down just as easy, too," he says. "Besides, you heal."

Connor just shrugs, drying his no-longer-burned hand with a towel. "Maybe I just have to get used to it," he says. The blonde turns to the stove, gesturing. "I'm going to get the water boiling again," he says, and Jason does not contest the topic change. "Can you get out a pan?" he asks. “I feel like some stir-fry.”

"Yeah," Jason says, glancing away from him. "Sure."


End file.
